


They're Not My Family (We Just Live Together)

by mikeythemage



Series: Blood and Paper [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (is it found family if theyre adopted?), Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff, Angst and Humor, Author Doesn't Know Shit About Sports, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Cara | CaptainPuffy is Clay | Dream and Ranboos Parent, Caring Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Child Abandonment, Childhood Trauma, Clay | Dream and Ranboo are Siblings (Video Blogging RPF), Clingy Trio, College/University, Debate Team President Wilbur Soot, Fencer Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Foster Care, Found Family, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, High School, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Jschlatt Works At Hot Topic, Jschlatt and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings, Minor Character Death, Older Siblings Wilber Soot and Technoblade, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Cara | CaptainPuffy, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Is The Kid Across The Street, Sam | Awesamdude is Jschlatt and Toby Smith | Tubbo's Parent, Separation Anxiety, Spans Over Multiple Years, Technoblade Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Tubbo Is The Kid Next Door, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, no beta we die like revolutionaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeythemage/pseuds/mikeythemage
Summary: Tommy had been in the foster system for as long as he could remember. His first memory was of a girl who he could no longer remember the face of pouring hot soup into his lap and then telling everyone else he'd pissed himself (his second memory was of him tackling her to the ground and kicking her ass, but that was here nor there), and he was fine with that. He was fine with the fact that he never got to have a Christmas with his parents before he found out that Santa wasn't real. He was fine that he never had the mind-shattering discovery that, no, his parents names are not in fact 'mom' and 'dad'.He was fine that his first memory wasn't of his mothers or his fathers face, and that it wasn't paired with their voices lovingly asking him what he wanted for breakfast and how he slept, and laughing at the way his pajama's of some silly cartoon for toddlers were too long for him as they kissed the top of his head. It's not like he'd spent countless hours and dozens of sleepless nights imagining what they were like, how they sounded, who he took after the most. No. He was perfectly fine that he'd never know them.Who needs family, anyways? CertainlynotTommy.
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Blood and Paper [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105607
Comments: 57
Kudos: 433





	1. Who needs family, anyways?

Tommy had been in the foster system for as long as he could remember. His first memory was of a girl who he could no longer remember the face of pouring hot soup into his lap and then telling everyone else he'd pissed himself (his second memory was of him tackling her to the ground and kicking her ass, but that was here nor there), and he was fine with that. He was fine with the fact that he never got to have a Christmas with his parents before he found out that Santa wasn't real. He was fine that he never had the mind-shattering discovery that, no, his parents' names are not in fact 'mom' and 'dad'.

He was fine that his first memory wasn't of his mothers or his fathers face, and that it wasn't paired with their voices lovingly asking him what he wanted for breakfast and how he slept, and laughing at the way his pajamas of some silly cartoon for toddlers were too long for him as they kissed the top of his head. It's not like he'd spent countless hours and dozens of sleepless nights imagining what they were like, how they sounded, who he took after the most. No. He was perfectly fine that he'd never know them.

Who needs family, anyways? Certainly not Tommy.

No, no, he does perfectly fine on his own with the dozen of other children he lives with, and the half a dozen caretakers that seem fed up with him, and the food that taste like cardboard, and the chipping paint in the kitchen that is probably a safety hazard, and the broken air conditioner that makes summer hell and winter a fight for the biggest blanket they have on hand, and the revolving door of younger kids that just remind him that teenagers are less likely to be fostered or adopted and that he is, in fact, a teenager.

Yeah. He does perfectly fine with all of that. He does wish they had the money to fix the AC, though. It kinda sucks to sweat his ass off for half the year and then freeze it back on for the other half. Maybe they could save up for a few of those fans that move from left to right on it's own, or something. Anything would be better than the blistering heat, really.

It's meeting day, like it always is on Monday and Friday, and Tommy could not care less. He's been through it hundreds of times. The ladies that work there telling him to be on his best behavior, and then turning around and saying to be himself (which clashes terribly with their first snippet of advice), a couple of two, sometimes a couple of three three and sometimes someone on their own, coming in and asking him questions or trying to do small talk, him getting too loud or passionate about this that or the other, the time running out, the people standing up and telling him 'It was nice to meet you, Thomas', and then he never saw them again.

Rinse and repeat the process every Monday and Friday for ten years, and you really stop trying.

He's only got about four meetings today, meaning he's either going to be busy all day, or they're all going to hate him and he's going to be finished in an hour. His bet is on the latter.

The first couple he meets seems nice enough. They're polite, and they don't mind when he gets too loud over a small disagreement, and they don't make a comment on his fidgeting, but then they ask how he would feel about a vegan diet and he tells them that they'd do much better with the other Tommy in the facility. They apologize, and say they thought he was the Tommy they had in mind when they set up the meeting. He tells them it's fine. He swears it doesn't hurt his feelings. Really, it doesn't. He's not shocked when they don't call back for him, but he does say hi when they pass him with the other Tommy on his way to his second meeting.

The second couple to come in is one very nice man who looks half scared for his life, and a woman Tommy immediately knows he doesn't want to go home with the second they say hello to him. They smell like cigarettes, and booze, and they look like they've been sitting in a room full of cat hair and empty chip bags for the past week. Tommy isn't one to judge, really he's not, but he can make an educated guess in saying that wouldn't be a great place to live. That meeting ends as soon as Tommy insinuates she's an alcoholic. He also tells the nice man that she's probably not worth it. He's not shocked when they don't call back for him.

The third couple is two nice ladies and their equally nice partner. There's nothing inherently wrong with them, as there is nothing inherently wrong with Tommy, they just don't click together. Tommy is a bit too loud for one of the ladies, and their partner is a little too straight laced for Tommy to think they wouldn't constantly be at odds if they lived together. They're nice, they just aren't for Tommy and he isn't for them. He's not shocked when they don't call back for him.

He's sat in his room on his dingy bed scrolling through his phone. Kate, a toddler, is sitting at the end of his bed messing with her stuffed sheep while Wilson, her twin brother, naps on the floor (for some reason). He doesn't mind them, really. They're rather quiet and entertaining, and Tommy makes sure that the older kids don't make fun of them. He knows what it's like for the people there to look down on you for your age, and he's happy to use his height as an advantage.

One of the ladies that works there shows up in the door and Tommy stands. He knows she's here for him because Kate and Wilson don't have any meetings today and they're the only other people in the room. He pockets his phone and stands without a word, following her down the hallways he's walked hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of times. The same wallpaper, the same creaking floorboards, the same doors. Everything is the same, there's just different people every once in a while.

She opens the door to the meeting room and a man with blonde hair sits in one of the chairs. He's wearing a dark green t-shirt with loose jeans and a pair of converse. He looks... incredibly under dressed for something that people normally try to look formal for. Tommy doesn't mind, though. It makes him feel a little more comfortable. He turns at the sound of the door closing, and then Tommy notices his stark blue eyes, similar to Tommy's own.

The man's face lights up at the sight of Tommy, but he doesn't move to get up, instead waiting for Tommy to sit down in his own chair across from him before speaking. As Tommy crosses the room to take a seat, he sees how relaxed the man is. He's much less tense than Tommy is, looking like this meeting is an everyday occurrence and that he isn't here to decide if Tommy is good enough to take home.

When Tommy sits, the man still doesn't reach a hand out to him like the usual people do, "Hello there, mate," he says, "I'm Phil. What's your name?"

Tommy raises a brow. The guy, Phil, definitely already knows his name. It's on his file, and they tell you it again just before the meeting in case you forget. Unless this guy just didn't read his file, unlikely, or wasn't paying attention before the meeting, also unlikely, Tommy doesn't know what he's up to. "You already know my name." he says it a bit too blunt, maybe a little too rude, but Phil doesn't seem to mind.

Instead, Phil laughs, shaking his head a bit, "You're right, I do. I just figured you might be a bit more comfortable introducing yourself on your own." Tommy tries to find any sort of teasing or malice in the way that Phil speaks and the way that he looks at Tommy. He doesn't find it. Instead, he's met with genuine curiosity and patience that shows and experience with this sort of situation.

"...I'm Tommy." he finally says, and Phil nods.

"Nice to meet you Tommy. How has your day been?"

That's a normal question, Tommy supposes. People always lie about their answer anyways. "I've been good. What about you?"

Phil laughs to himself, "Pretty chaotic, if I'm being honest."

Tommy raises a brow, "Seriously? How?"

"Apparently, both of my sons have activities for their clubs today and decided that it would be best to tell me thirty minutes before I had to leave to come here. Wil was easy enough, he's got his own car and I just needed to help him find his keys, but I had to drive Techno to the stadium for fencing and that's practically on the other side of town. Got there and it turns out it wasn't even mandatory." Phil shakes his head fondly, "The one time he actually decides to go to practice."

Tommy tries not to let the anxious thoughts tell him that he's less likely to be adopted because this guy already has two kids. He doesn't care if he's adopted or not. He doesn't. "He fences? That sounds cool. I don't think I've ever met anyone that fences."

Phil nods, and Tommy can't help but feel envious of the pride that shows on his face, "Been doing it since he was ten. He's a total freak of nature and put the best person at the facility on their ass his first try, but he has fun, so I can't complain."

Tommy nods, "What about... you said his name was Wil? What does he do?"

"Ah, Wilbur. He's real big into the debate club at the community college. Treats it like an actual war zone. Made uniforms for his team and everything. He calls the debate team L'Manberg. He's a total nerd, but he's a genius when he steps onto the podium. Totally in his element." He's quiet for a few seconds, like he's thinking of Wilbur on the podium during a debate, before he zones back, "What about you, Tommy?"

"What about me?"

"What do you like to do for fun around here? I mean, I know that there isn't much to do in an orphanage. Especially one without a lot of funds. No matter how many years I've been out of the one I was in I can still remember how boring it was for the most part. Wil's always complaining about how cold it was in his, and Techno's always talking about how he would constantly get into fights at his. So, what do you do to keep yourself occupied?"

That explains so much. Of course Phil is so relaxed about this. Of course he isn't formal. Of course he acts like he's been through this a dozen times. He has been through this a dozen times. Maybe not on the side of the table he is right now, but he's been in Tommy's place before. How many times, Tommy doesn't know, but he's been here before. He's been through the process. He knows how tiring it is to be talked to like you're in a job interview. To just be asked questions instead of having a genuine conversation. To feel like you're being analyzed. He knows what it feels like to have to pretend to be something you're not to just get out of there.

He's already been through the process of two other kids, and he's had them for god knows how long. One of which he regards with such fondness despite having done something that could be considered inconvenient for him less than two hours ago, and the other he praises unprompted and without a hint of irony or like he's trying to get brownie points from Tommy to seem nicer than he is.

It makes Tommy feel understood for the first time in the long time he's been doing these meetings.

"I uhm..." he starts, and Phil waits patiently for him to continue, "I really like when we got to the community college a couple blocks away to play on the computers. I really like video games."

Phil smiles even wider, "That's awesome! My sons love video games, too. Saturday nights are actually game night, just with violent video games instead of board games. Techno says I cheat whenever we see who can beat the Ender Dragon first in Minecraft, but I think he's just mad that I'm better at Hardcore mode than he is. You ever played Minecraft before?"

"Once or twice. This guy at the college brought his laptop over a couple times and let me play on it while he did his essay at one of the library computers. It was fun. Haven't played since, though." Tommy hates how timid he feels right now. He's been through this a bunch, it's not his first meeting.

 _But it's the first meeting where they aren't treating you like a charity case to use for morality points_. His mind supplies, and he elects to ignore that particular thought.

"You really would love Techno and Wil. They like to stream video games. I mean, I do, too, but they're super into it with all their free time. Don't have to pay bills and whatnot. They're total pricks, too. Fighting at the dinner table over the smallest shit. Wil even hosted a debate between them in the living room, only for Techno to put him in a headlock by the end of it. Pretty sure he threatened to break Wil's guitar that night, too. Pretty sure that started a war that went on for like, half a year."

Tommy laughs at that, just barely, and he tries to think about what they're like. Techno apparently used to get into fights a lot, and he's a natural at fencing. Wilbur is a genius when it comes to debating people, and he's a musician. Phil seems like he's really nice, chill even, and he apparently likes video games and can relate to the struggle of being a foster kid.

It makes Tommy spiral a bit.

What could he possibly add to that dynamic? It seems like it's already completed. The chill older man, the young apprentice that's a natural at fighting, and the musician with quick wits. What would Tommy be? He's really nothing special, (the fact that he's still here makes that- no, he doesn't care about being adopted. The fact that he's still here doesn't mean anything) so he couldn't really add anything to them. Tommy would just... be there. He'd be like the character in a TV show that's in the group but rarely gets screen time and then ends up dying to motivate the protagonists to win the final fight.

He's a side character being offered a place to live in a house fill of main characters, and he'd be lying if he said wasn't extremely tempted to take that offer.

But no. He doesn't need a family. He won't take the offer even if it kills him. Even if it means he stays here for the rest of his life until he's legally obligated to leave at the age of eighteen. That's five years away. He's been here for his whole life, he can wait five more years.

"So," Phil says, breaking him away from his thoughts, "what type of video games do you like?"

Tommy doesn't need anymore prompting before he's off on a tangent. Phil doesn't interrupt him even once, or ask him to stop moving around so much, or ask him to sit back down, or ask him to be quieter. No, Phil just sits and listens, waiting to add his own commentary until Tommy's finished speaking and laughing at the jokes that Tommy makes (which does _not_ make Tommy feel accomplished at _all_ what are you even talking about?). Sometimes Phil will tell him stories about his sons and Tommy can't believe that Phil ever dealt with some of the things they got up to, but it makes Tommy feel better knowing that Phil has experience dealing with rowdy kids.

Tommy doesn't even realize how long he's been talking to Phil until the lady comes in and says that the window for meetings has closed. Tommy blinks, because he came in here at noon and the window closes at five. He just talked to someone who's going to decide whether to take him into their care or not for _five whole hours_ . Most of his meetings barely last thirty minutes, forty-five minutes if they really like him. But never, and he means _never_ has a meeting taken more than an hour. This took _five_.

Phil makes a bummed noise at the reminder of their limited time together, and Tommy has to push down the hope that rises in him. He's never gotten a call back before, it's not going to happen today.

' _Just because Phil talked to you for hours, and he seemed to actually enjoy it, doesn't mean anything.'_ He tells himself. ' _You don't need to be fostered, anyways. Who cares about being fostered. You don't. Just because Phil is really cool, and you really want to meet Techno and Phil doesn't mean anything. You_ do not _want to be fostered by him. You_ don't.'

Phil salutes him as he leaves the building, and Tommy watches him until he's completely out of sight.

"How was it?" The woman asks, and Tommy just shrugs like always.

He _doesn't_ want to be fostered by Phil, and he is _not_ going to be disappointed when he doesn't call back for him. He _isn't_.

Tommy is absolutely fucking devastated when Phil doesn't call back for him the next day despite all of the time he spent convincing himself that he didn't care. He waits eagerly through breakfast, and then lunch, and by dinner he's realized that Phil just isn't going to call. He goes over the meeting the day before in his head. What did he do wrong? How could he have done better? Did he miss any signs that Phil was uncomfortable? Was he too loud and Phil was just too polite to ask him to quiet down? Is he not good enough?

No. No, it's not a matter of good enough. It's _not_ . It _isn't_ . Tommy is _great_ . He's _awesome_ . He doesn't _need_ to be adopted by some cool old guy with two cool foster sons. He _doesn't_.

He doesn't realize he's crying until Kate and Wilson show up at his bed side with concern evident on their faces.

"Are you okay, Tommy?" Wilson asks, timid as ever. Kate pushes him a little.

"Of course he isn't, dummy. He's crying."

Wilson shrugs, "Maybe they were happy tears."

Kate shakes her head, "Boys are so stupid." she mumbles, and it makes Tommy smile. She looks back up to him, going back to concerned, "What's wrong, Tommy?"

Tommy sniffles, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, "Nothing, you rascals. I'm just a little upset about something."

They're quiet, just looking at each other for a second (Tommy is convinced they have some weird form of telepathy or some shit) before Wilson speaks up, "Are you sad you didn't get a call from the nice man Phil." Tommy's jaw drops. For a pair of five year olds, they're incredibly perceptive. They await his response with wide eyes, and Tommy can only sigh.

"You caught me," he says, sitting up in bed and motioning for them to climb up. They do, and he puts an arm over each of their shoulders, "How'd you know? You read my mind or something?"

Kate shakes her head, "Uh-uh. You were just really excited about the nice man Phil from your last meeting at dinner yesterday."

Ah. Tommy remembers that. He'd talked their ears off about Phil and all they had talked about until it was time for lights out, and even then he'd stayed up and recounted the stories he'd been told to them. He supposed that he was incredibly obvious about how much he liked Phil. It didn't help that they both seemed just as eager to hear about Phil as he had been to talk about him.

How embarrassing.

Wilson yawns, and Tommy realizes he probably woke them up with his crying. He glances at the alarm clock next to his bed. Three A.M. Yikes, he should get these two back to bed.

"Alright. Yeah. I'm upset about the nice man Phil. But it's alright. Me not getting a call just means that I can stay here with you guys even longer." He shakes them to emphasize his point, and the twins laugh. "Now go back to bed, I don't want you blaming me for you falling asleep at the breakfast table."

They hop off the bed, Kate sticking her tongue out at him (and Tommy is a _mature_ thirteen year old so he totally does it back) before they head back to their beds. Tommy sighs, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

Yeah. Who cares if Phil didn't call back for him. He's got plenty of good things here at the orphanage. Like Kate and Wilson, and... Kate and Wilson... Okay, so maybe he's only got one (two?) good thing(s?) at the orphanage, but that's better than nothing!

He doesn't need Phil and his super cool sons with their super cool traditions. He's got plenty right here! Screw Phil! He doesn't need him, and he doesn't care if Phil calls back for him.

When he wakes up at seven the next morning, he's exhausted because he was crying until three in the morning, and then spent another two hours convincing himself that he didn't actually care, and then took another half hour to actually fall asleep, but he's back to his old self nonetheless. He even chases George, some seventeen year old prick that seems to have a keen interest in terrorizing the younger kids, around the orphanage for half an hour with a plastic light-saber.

That's fun! He has fun at the orphanage! He totally does! He definitely loves it here! Who needs a family?

It's nearly two weeks after the Phil meeting at lunch when one of the nice ladies at the orphanage asks if Tommy can follow her for a minute in the middle of lunch. He stands, telling Kate not to touch his curly fries while he's gone, and walks next to her down the hallway with his eyes glued to his feet as he tries to think of what he could've done to get in trouble this time.

It couldn't be anything to do with arts and crafts, he hasn't been allowed to touch the paints since the last time he accidentally poured an entire bucket of neon green paint onto one of the ladies. It can't be anything about the younger kids, because they adore him, and the older kids don't snitch on him because he doesn't snitch on them. He really can't think of anything besides, maybe, because they caught on that he's been staying up later on his phone than he's supposed to? But he isn't sure how they'd figure that out.

She opens a door that Tommy's never seen the other side of before, and he's half convinced that he's hallucinating when he sees what's on the other side.

His, very scare, amount of stuff is packed into a red and white backpack that he's had since he was five that's sat atop a table, and sitting in a chair is none other than nice man Phil from the meeting. There's a bag of McDonald's also sat on the table, and Tommy can tell that Phil's just ordered a bunch of fries because that's the only thing Tommy can smell.

Phil lights up at the sight of Tommy, and it makes something in Tommy's gut twists. This is... weird. Why is he back here? Why is all of Tommy's stuff packed into his only backpack? Why is Phil here? Why did he get called into this room? _Why the fuck is Phil here_?

Tommy knows his eyes are wide, and Phil's chuckle just confirms it, but he can't help it. This isn't normal. Do people come back for second meetings? Is that a thing? Tommy doesn't think that's a thing. There's no way that's a thing.

"Sorry it took me so long, mate." Phil says after Tommy doesn't say anything, "I had to set up the room for you, and I had trouble figuring out what you would need. I figured that you would need some books, since you're in eighth grade, but then I had to try and find a school for you and stuff, and I completely forgot that you actually have to be living with us before I can sign you up for classes. It was a hassle."

Tommy is speechless. Because what the _fuck_ . _Literally what the fuck_? What is Phil talking about right now? What is he even saying? He needed to set up a room for Tommy? He needed to find a school for Tommy? What the fuck is happening?

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Tommy blinks, "Is this a prank or something?"

Phil seems taken aback by that, and the lady next to Tommy squawks at him to not be rude but Phil just waves her off and asks if she could leave the room for a second. She narrows her eyes, but agrees so long as she's able to stand right outside the door. Phil says that's fine, and then she's gone and Phil's attention is back on Tommy. Tommy tenses at the intense look in his eyes.

"Why do you think this is a prank, Tommy?"

Tommy shrugs, rubbing one of his arms for comfort. "I don't know. I just... I've been here for years, man, or sir? I don't know. I mean, you were the first person I've had a meeting with that lasted more than an hour, and then you didn't call the next day, and now you're here? It's weird. I didn't... I thought you didn't like me, or something."

Phil's face softens considerably, and Tommy doesn't know if he likes that. "Tommy, I promise you that this isn't a prank. I really am sorry that it took me so long, but I didn't want you to be sleeping on the couch for the first couple of days you were staying with us, and you were a _lot_ taller than I was expecting you to be, so I had to send the bed back and then the new bed I ordered got lost somewhere during the delivery process." he sighs, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry I took so long."

Tommy looks back down to the ground, the eye contact is just a little too much for him right now, and turns the information over in his brain. Phil was nice, he wouldn't lie about this. This isn't a prank. That's great! But also, no, it's not because he doesn't _want_ to be adopted by Phil. He doesn't need a family. He _doesn't_. He does not want to be Techno and Wil's younger adoptive brother. He swears it to himself.

"I don't want to be adopted." Tommy mumbles, and he regrets it almost immediately. Why would he say that? Why the _fuck_ would he say that? What the fuck is wrong with him? He takes in a breath when Phil laughs, expecting the older man to say something along the lines of 'thank god'. Instead, Phil says,

"I thought you might say that. I'm not adopting you quite yet, Tommy. Just fostering you. You can come back here whenever you want."

Tommy doesn't look up at that, just grips his arm harder and furrows his brow more. God, Phil is making this a hard offer to refuse. He doesn't want a family. He doesn't need one. He doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't. Phil doesn't say anything, waiting for Tommy to speak up again, and the silence is what makes Tommy look up.

He regrets it immediately.

Phil looks so... _hopeful_. Expectant, even, and maybe just a little bit nervous that Tommy is going to turn him down.

It's not a prank. It's a genuine offer, and Phil _wants_ Tommy to take it. Phil wants to take Tommy back to his house. Phil wants to show Tommy the room he's going to be staying in. Phil wants to introduce Tommy to Wil and Techno. Phil wants _Tommy_.

The sheer thought of such a thing, someone _wanting_ him, is enough to make Tommy break.

"Okay." He mumbles, and Phil lets out the loudest sigh of relief Tommy has heard in his life.

"Oh, thank Christ. I was worried I was going to have to tell Techno and Wil that you weren't coming back with me. They would've slaughtered me for getting their hopes up."

Tommy laughs, and no it is _not_ wet because he is _not_ about to cry because he is _not_ happy that someones adopt, no, _fostering_ him. "Can I, uhm, say goodbye to some people first?"

"Of course! I'll talk to Ms. De León while you do that."

Tommy nods once, turning around on his heel and barreling down the hallway into the dining room. It's empty and his plate is gone, but he doesn't really care. He passes through the room, heading into the activity area where Kate and Wilson are fighting over a bean bag chair and picks them both up without warning. They scream, kicking around a bit, but calm down once he puts the back on the floor at beams at them.

"I just got fostered." He says, and they light up like Christmas trees, or maybe Menorah's since they're Jewish, and start tackling him into a double hug. Tommy laughs, hugging them back tightly.

"Who was it!" Wilson asks, smile wide.

"It was nice man Phil." Tommy says, and the twins turn confused.

"I thought you said he didn't call back for you." Kate says, and Tommy shrugs.

"He was setting up a room for me at his house, I guess." He says, but his smile slowly falls, "But, that means I'm not gonna be here anymore."

Kate frowns, "Why not?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well," Tommy starts, "I'm gonna be living with him from now on, and I won't be able to see you guys every day like I usually do. I might not be able to visit that often, either. I... you're gonna have to terrorize the other kids without me."

Wilson pouts, "But what about George!"

"Come on now! You guys are tough, you can take him on without me."

Wilson sniffs, "No we can't."

Tommy sighs, running a hand down both of their hair, "You got it, you little rascals. Just give me the ol' one two. Plus, Kate's super scary. He won't even be brave enough to come near you guys."

They laugh, still sniffing a bit, and Tommy frowns. Is it worth it? To leave these two? He's been with them since they were barely old enough to walk, and they're probably his closest friends (which is kind of embarrassing because they're literally not even in kindergarten yet, but still). Will they really be fine without him? Will _he_ be fine without _them_? He doesn't know. What he does know is that it's too late to back out. He gives them one last squeeze, promising that he'll visit as much as he possibly can, and lets them walk him as far as they're allowed to before finally saying goodbye to one another.

When he enters the room again, Phil is on his phone talking to God knows who and hangs up once Tommy shows up. "You ready to leave?"

Tommy nods, and Phil smiles. "Right. Let's go then." he hands Tommy the McDonald's, saying that all the fries are for him, and Phil grabs the backpack. They walk out into the parking lot with Phil just a little bit ahead, and he leads them to a... Mini Van?

"Probably not what you were expecting, but I drive a lot of kids around. I'm kind of the neighborhood chaperone, and my old car just wasn't doing it. Sit wherever you like, but don't touch under the front seat, Purp likes to stick his gum to the bottom of it." He unlocks the car, putting Tommy's backpack in the trunk (even though Tommy could have just had it with him in the back seat) and walking around to the drivers seat. Tommy stares at the car for a few more seconds before getting into the backseat.

Did he make the right choice? Is Phil actually nice, or is it an act? Should he have agreed to this? He doesn't need a family why did he agree to this? God, what the fuck is he doing right now?

The engine revs to life and they pull out of the parking space, and then out of the parking lot. Tommy watches the orphanage grow smaller and smaller in the distance until they finally take a turn and it's gone. That's it. No going back. He's... really being fostered right now. Some small part of his brain is saying that it really _is_ an elaborate prank, and when they get to Phil's house there's going to be TV cameras everywhere and he's going to be a world-wide laughing stock, but he tries to ignore that part.

Phil doesn't try to talk with him or turn on the radio for the entire car ride, and Tommy is actually kind of grateful for that. He's not really in the mood to talk right now, and whatever would be on the radio would just make him annoyed.

They're driving through the suburbs, now, some nice houses with trees in the front yard and porches with benches on them, and Tommy thinks he saw a bird bath a couple blocks ago. He's never been in this part of town, never really had a reason to, but he thinks that it's nice. It definitely looks more lived in than the cold brick building the orphanage is. 

They pull into the drive way or a light blue house with white accents, a curtain shifts next to the front door, and Phil shakes his head. They get out of the car, still in silence, and Phil hands Tommy his backpack, which he gladly puts on. The fries in the bag are cold now, which basically means they're inedible at this point, but Phil says it's fine because Techno is, and Tommy is quoting, ' _absolutely insane and likes reheated McDonald's fries_ '.

When Phil unlocks the front door, there are two people sat on the couch in the living room that's to the left. One is playing COD Four and the other is tuning a guitar (Tommy can already tell that it's Techno and Wilbur in that order). Tommy looks around the opening of the house, to the left is the living room that's an absolute mess. There's clothes strewn all over the place, video games scattered in front of the T.V, coffee mugs and empty cups on the coffee table, and what _looks_ like a piece of pizza on a paper towel literally just on the floor. To the right is the opening to the dining room, and he can see the kitchen just barely from the opening in the wall that's probably used to eat sometimes. Straight ahead is the stairs, and then a hallway leading to whatever it is that's down there.

For the lack of a better word, it looks homey. Messy, for sure, but homey. Tommy is used to toys having to be put away neatly or else they all get in trouble, not one thing left out by anyone or else no one gets to play with anything the next day. It's odd to see something so destroyed, but Phil doesn't seemed too shocked by it. "Hey, boys." he says, and the two in the living room finally look over at them.

"Hey, Philza." Wil(?) says, and Phil sighs.

"Stop calling me by my gamer tag."

"Sorry, Philza, I can't hear you over the sound of me shooting these guys." Techno(?) says in a deadpan voice, the deepness of it surprising Tommy a little bit.

"You boys are insufferable." Phil says, turning back to Tommy, "Let me show you your room." he walks up the stairs a bit, Tommy falling a little bit of a ways away to avoid it being awkward. There's photos hanging on the wall on the way up the stairs, and Tommy takes a second to look at a few of them.

The one closest to the bottom of the stairs is of the boy with the glasses holding up a trophy with a smile, Phil is next to him absolutely beaming, and the brunette is doing two thumbs up. There's some messy dark green writing underneath it that says ' _Techno's First Fencing Award!_ '. So the one playing COD, _had_ been Techno. Alright then.

The next one he takes a look at is of Wilbur, dressed in what could only be described as literal seventeen-hundreds noble man attire, debating someone else who looks extremely lost. The writing underneath it, still in green, says ' _Wil's first big Win For L'Manberg (2018 National Debate Championship v. Swagri Community College)_ '. Huh. Phil wasn't kidding when he said Wil was a genius when it comes to debating.

The third is of Wilbur with Techno on his back, who looks extremely bored, and Phil looking at the two of them instead of the camera. Wilbur is in his cap and gown, looking like he just ran a marathon, but he looks happy. The writing underneath it is ' _Wil's graduation. He ran a five minute mile in his cap and gown just to prove he could do it (2016)'_ . Well then. Guess he _did_ run a marathon.

The final one is recent, it's of the three of them standing in front of a tree. Techno is wearing his cap and gown, while Wilbur is doing two thumbs up again (does he know how to pose for photos) and Phil is trying to hide the fact that he definitely cried. The writing underneath it is ' _Techno's graduation. He didn't run a five minute mile in his cap and gown because he thinks it's stupid (2019)_ '. Underneath the writing, in blue, is ' _It's not stupid >:( _ ', underneath that in red is, ' _It totally is_ '.

Tommy can take a guess as to who is what color.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Phil leads him down the hallway and Tommy can't help but peeking into the open doors.

The first one is very obviously Wilbur's. The copious amount of guitars, acoustic, electric, and everything in between, an obvious sign of such. There's a few guitars in the midst of being built leaning against the wall next to a wooden desk covered in papers, a picture of Phil and Techno getting bucket of water poured onto them amidst the chaos, and a large collection of beanies haphazardly thrown onto the messy bed. There's also a boombox pushed up against the wall, but Tommy isn't quite sure he wants to know _why_ Wilbur has that.

The second is Techno's, and Tommy can't help but feel intimidated by the decor. The bed is pushed into the corner, gray blanket neatly folded at the foot of it with blood red sheets and matching pillows. There's a knife collection handing on the wall, all of various shapes and sizes and colors, and a dart board is barely visible through the opened door. It's much cleaner than Wilbur's room, which is shocking due to the state of the living room, but it's still got it's charms. Tommy's main concern is that there isn't any other decoration than literal weapons hanging from the walls, but who is he to judge?

The last room is Phil's, but Tommy doesn't bother to focus on the decor. It would feel odd to snoop on Phil's room. Phil is an adult after all.

The last door the hallway has a piece of paper taped to it that just says 'Tommy' in big block letters. It's the only door that's closed, and Tommy feels a little scared to open it. Maybe they just haven't gotten to the punch line of the joke yet. Maybe when he opens this he'll get jumped or something. Maybe... maybe... maybe there's nothing behind this door but a bed, and a desk, and maybe even a rug. Maybe it's just a standard room.

Out of all three of those options, he dislikes the fact that Phil might have actually been excited enough to foster him to set up a room.

He doesn't need a family.

The door opens to his biggest fear. A queen sized bed in the corner, grey sheets with green covers set atop it, a dark wood desk with a gaming computer (a _real_ gaming computer, not just some Dell or something.) and some textbooks on it, and a circle rug that's black with a smaller green circle in the middle surrounding the small hole. It kind of looks like a disc. Tommy thinks it looks cool.

"Right," Phil says, "Sorry there isn't much, didn't know what you liked. Figured you wouldn't mind green, but we can get some other colors if you like."

"No, it's fine!" _You've already done so much_.

Phil smiles, leaning against the door frame, "Okay then. I'll let you get settled. You can stay in here until dinner if you want."

Tommy nods, but Phil doesn't make a point to move from the doorway, "Uhm..." he mumbles, and Phil seems to get the hint.

"Oh! Sorry, mate."

"It's uh... it's fine."

Phil nods, closing Tommy's door as he leaves. Tommy immediately rushes over, smiling at the lock on the handle. He's never had a lock on his door before. He flicks it to the right, sighing at the sound of it flitting into place. He turns around, slipping his backpack off his shoulders and throwing it onto the bed. It's a nice room, he has to admit. The paint looks like it was just done, which is very possible considering how Phil had talked about them setting up the room. To be completely honest, he's not sure if it is a nice room because he's never had one of his own, but he thinks that someone who's had their own room would agree. Maybe. Hopefully.

He opens his backpack. Tommy doesn't have much. He barely has anything at all actually. Everything that belongs to him is as such; six tee shirts (not counting the one he's wearing), seven long sleeves, seven pairs of jeans, seven pairs of pants, seven pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, one jacket, the phone in his back charger, a pair of headphones that only work in the left ear, his phone charger, and, last but not least, his cow, Henry. Not an actual cow, of course, but he's had him for as long as he can remember and he had thought the stuffed animal was real at one point.

He folds his pants, putting them into the dresser (it barely takes up two), and hangs his shirts up in the closet. It looks basically empty. It looks pathetic. He slams the closet door shut before he can really think about it and throws himself face first into his bed. It's soft. Softer than the cheap mattresses they've been using at the orphanage since the literal beginning of time, at least.

There's a knock at the door, and Tommy debates on whether to answer. On one hand, it would be rude not to. On the other hand, bed soft.

Bed soft loses out to 'holy fuck stop knocking already oh my Christ'.

He opens the door to Techno and Wilbur who look down on him. It's kind of intimidating. Not that Techno has to look down very far, though. Tommy thinks that he's an inch shorter than him at _least_ . He's always been tall for his age. Wilbur on the other hand towers over Tommy. He's got to be at _least_ six-foot-two, maybe even higher. Tommy swears he's going to be taller than him right then and there. It would be a little more intimidating if Wilbur didn't look like an excited dog to see Tommy face to face, but it's still intimidating nonetheless.

"So, how'd you like your new room?" Wilbur asks. His voice is smooth and level and he seems genuinely curious. His fringe falls into his eyes a bit, but he doesn't seem to mind. He looks relaxed, like Phil had when Tommy had first met him. Tommy wonders if that’s where Wilbur gets it from. (Or maybe Phil gets it from Wilbur.)

"It's alright, I guess." Tommy mumbles, and Techno snorts.

"Better than what I had. I slept on the ground for a month." His voice is just as deep as Tommy remembers, but it's got emotion despite the straight face he's pulling. It sounds like he should be completely deadpan, and maybe he is and Tommy just isn't using the word correctly, but he's not. Tommy isn't sure if he's bored or not, though, which makes him anxious.

Wilbur rolls his eyes, "You slept on the floor because you didn't like the mattress that dad bought you. It was entirely your fault that you were on the floor for so long."

"It was an uncomfortable ass mattress, Wilbur. I got back pains after one night. If you'd slept on it you would have understood."

"How am I the dramatic one out of the two of us?"

Techno shrugs, and Tommy isn't sure why they're even here. They're kind of just having a conversation in front of him, and maybe they think he'll jump in but he doesn't know how. These guys have known each other for years, Tommy hasn't even been here for half an hour.

"What did you guys want?" He asks, and it comes out a little more rude than he'd expected it to so he backtracks, "Sorry, just. Didn't expect you guys to come up here. What's up?"

Wilbur is the one to laugh this time, and Tommy thinks that it's a nice sound. "Dad just left to pick up pizza, so we figured we might as well introduce ourselves properly. I'm Wilbur. The cooler Watson."

Techno elbows him, "He's lying to himself. Techno. Nice to meet you."

Tommy blinks at them and their smiles slowly fall. Wilbur looks like he's about to give up, walk back downstairs and do whatever but Tommy finally answers, "I'm Tommy. Not a Watson."

They both nod, and Tommy feels awkward again. He doesn't know what to talk about. He doesn't know much about them besides their hobbies and those aren't really something that he should know in the first place. They most likely don't know much about him, either. God what the fuck does he do?

"Alright," Techno says, "I'm going back downstairs to play COD. You coming?" Tommy doesn't miss the way that Techno glances at him for a split second as he asks the question. Wilbur nods, following Techno down that hallway and Tommy closes his door with a sigh of relief. That went absolutely terrible, holy fuck.

The day goes on, Tommy laying on his bed just messing around on his phone when he smells pizza. It's been a long time since he's had pizza that wasn't frozen and made from scratch by the ladies at the orphanage. In fact, he isn't sure he's ever had pizza that wasn't made by the orphanage ladies. Not the it was bad pizza, just tasted odd. He isn't even sure if he likes pizza because of how they make it but the smell draws him downstairs anyways.

Techno and Wilbur are already sat at the table with their plates, arguing about the ethics of the slices that Techno has when Phil walks out of the cooking area and spots Tommy.

"Ah, I was just about to come get you." He says with a smile. He's always smiling at Tommy. Tommy doesn't get it. "Come, sit. We've got pineapple, cheese, and pepperoni."

Tommy slinks over to the table, taking a hesitant seat next to Phil. Wilbur and Techno are across from him, still bickering, when Tommy grabs his slices. He doesn't think he's ever even had pineapple on pizza before, and he tells them as such.

"I've never had pineapple pizza. Is it good?"

"Yes!" Techno says at the same time that Wilbur shouts 'No!'. Tommy blinks, looking to Phil who just shrugs.

"You're free to try it. Just know that if you like it Wil is going to lose his shit."

Tommy turns back to the pizza sitting on the tray in the center of the table. It couldn't hurt to try, right? If he likes it, that's cool, and if he doesn't then he just doesn't. Yeah. That's it. This is cool. He's cool.

He lifts a slice off the tray, Techno and Wilbur watching him like hawks as he takes a bite and chews. His brows rise in shock and he swallows, "I don't think I've ever had pizza that was actually good before." he says, and Wilbur sighs.

"Another one lost to the dark side."

Techno, however, smirks, "Welcome to the Blood God's cause."

"The... what?"

Phil shakes his head, "It's a nickname that he came up with and practically forces everyone he fences with call him that."

"I got that name because I am ruthless, and cool, and a _god_ at fencing, thank you very much."

Wilbur snorts, "You totally came up with it yourself. You literally asked me if it sounded cool enough."

Techno smacks Wilbur across the back of the head, which Wilbur does back, and before Tommy realizes they're having a literal wrestling match at the table. He watches with wide eyes and they yell, and pull, and kick, and punch, all while Phil watches them with a bored, if not slightly annoyed, expression. This must be normal for them, then. That's... slightly concerning.

"You literally fence, that's so lame!" Wilbur yells, pushing Techno's hand off his face and punching him in the gut.

"Wilbur, you are on a _debate team_ . You made _uniforms_ . I win the cool competition by _default_!"

"Both of you lose out to Tommy because you're grown men fighting at the dinner table over a nickname." Phil says, and it's the first time Tommy has heard him sound stubborn. Both of them freeze at Phil's word, looking to him wide-eyed with their hands still full of each other's clothes. Techno gets one last slap in while Wilbur stomps on his foot before they go back to eating, and Tommy almost gets whiplash from the change. He guesses that's just what it's like to have a brother.

After dinner, Wilbur, Techno, and Phil do three round of rock paper scissors each to figure out who has to do the dishes (it ends up being Techno) and the second Phil tells Tommy that's he's free to go upstairs if he wants he's up the stairs and locked in his room in record time. He doesn't leave for the rest of the night until he needs to shower, and even then he goes last and takes thirty minutes to figure out how to work the shower so he doesn't have to run into anyone else.

He's laying in bed in complete darkness, towel under his head so he doesn't get his pillow wet with his damp hair, when he thinks over the day.

He woke up. He showered. He got dressed. He ate breakfast. He played with Kate and Wilson, who he won't see everyday anymore. He ate half of his lunch. He got fostered today by a nice man with two sons, both of which he adopted, that had a room set up for him with a computer(!!) and a cool rug, and a soft bed. The nice man's two sons were weird, and it was awkward to talk to them. Dinner was a mess. He likes pineapple on pizza, apparently.

Wilbur called Phil dad. Does he think of Phil as his dad? Even though they aren't blood related? Does Techno? He'd never heard him refer to Phil as dad before. Maybe he just doesn't do it as often as Wilbur. Can someone really consider someone that adopted them family? Could... Tommy consider them family?

No. No, he couldn't. He knows he couldn't because he doesn't need a family. He doesn't need to be Phil's son. He doesn't need to be Wilbur and Techno's little brother. He doesn't need any of it. He's never going to need any of it. He has to remember that. He isn't Phil's son, and he never will be. He isn't Wilbur and Techno's little brother, and he never will be. They aren't family, and they never will be. They just live together.

Yeah. That's it.

They're not Tommy's family.

They just live together.


	2. Not wanting to go shopping with Phil is apparently a universal sentiment.

Tommy wakes up the next morning because of a loud crash, and then someone yelling. Tommy almost thinks that Phil wasn't as nice as he'd portrayed himself to be, maybe yesterday he was so nice because he wanted Tommy to let his guard down, but then he hears Wilbur shriek something about his pasta being all over the floor now and he calms down. Although he is slightly concerned about the pasta.

He sits up as Techno starts yelling about how Wilbur is going to be the one to clean that up because there is absolutely _no way_ that Tommy will be able to fall asleep with that going on. He's not even sure how, but those two alone manage to make all thirty of the kids at the orphanage seem like they were whispering. It only stops when Phil yells at them both that he'll kick them out if they keep it up. It's a mess. (It's kind of funny though, Tommy guesses.)

There's a knock at his door, "I'm up." he mumbles around a yawn and rubs his eyes. The sun shines in through his window, the only downside of this room being the fact that it's the only bedroom in the entire house facing east. He'll have to make some sort of curtain one of these days.

"What'dya want for breakfast, mate?" Phil calls out as Tommy stretches his arms above his head. He's never really been asked what he, specifically, wanted for breakfast. It's always been a vote made at five in the morning while everyone made their beds. He'd never minded scrambled eggs and hash browns before, though. "Wil's set on pancakes, but Monday is pancake day. Unless you want pancakes?"

Tommy shakes his head to wake up even more, "No it's," he coughs, throat feeling dry. He needs water, "It's fine. Do you think that we could have hash browns?" There's a chuckle from outside the door.

"Oh, you and Techno are gonna get along just fine. Breakfast should be ready in about half an hour." The sound of footsteps retreating down the hall before making their way down the stairs is all that Tommy focuses on for a second before he stares off into space for a while. Not even thinking of anything, just... staring at the floor. He isn't sure what does it, but he eventually snaps out of it and ends up going through his daily routine. He should probably think about getting sleep clothes soon, sleeping in cargo pants is really uncomfortable.

He leaves the towel around his shoulders for his hair to drip onto while he goes about his day. It's a Sunday, which means that he's probably going to have to go to an _actual_ middle school tomorrow for Phil to sign him up for classes. Bogus. Tommy does perfectly well doing the weird home-schooling packet the orphanage provided. For example, he knows that uhm... that... okay maybe the packets don't work all that well, but whatever! He could just do, like, normal home-school! No need to be so rash and make him go into the sea of other pre-teens and new teenagers! _Especially_ so late into the school year! It's anarchy! Pure anarchy!

He sits in the same seat as the night before without having said any of that, but he likes to think that Phil would have agreed that Tommy, with all of his brains and almost superhuman intellect, did _not_ need to go to a physical middle school if he had. As it stands, though, he one-hundred percent is doomed to go to Pogtopia Public Middle School. He'll be fine. Big man Tommy isn't scared of other kids! He's Big T, after all. Everyone calls him that (they don't). He's great with kids his age (he's not). He'll be fine (he is ninety-nine percent sure he won't be).

"So, Tommy," Techno says after downing a cup of some sort of juice, Tommy's on his third cup of water, "you excited to start school next week?"

Tommy smiles, "Totally." _I'm going to be mauled by the people there._ "I just hope I don't scare anyone away with my height." _It does not matter how tall I am, I am not accustomed to the likes of public school kids. Don't make me go._ "Who knows, maybe I'll join the basketball team or something." _Okay, what? That one is literally just a straight up lie. I don't know shit about basketball._

His leg starts to bounce subconsciously as Techno looks at him, analyzing, and Tommy absolutely hates it. It feels weird, and he wants it to stop. "It's alright to be nervous, you know." he says, and Tommy feels like he just got soul read. Phil calls out from the kitchen;

"Oi! Stop psychoanalyzing Tommy! It's only day two! Give him until at _least_ week six!"

Techno's eyes widen, mouth falling open as he turns to Phil, "What?" He whines, "Week _six_? That's like... six weeks from now!"

"Could have fooled me." Wilbur says, pushing his fruit around his plate.

Techno just flips him off, not even bothering to look away from Phil, who just sighs when Techno says, "Can't we cut it down to two weeks? Please? I won't even Technoplane him for a _month_ if you cut it down to two weeks. Swear!"

"No. You can be kind of intimidating when you analyze people, and he hasn't even been here a full day yet. Also, you shouldn't Technoplane him in _general_. I'm pretty sure it's an illegal move in wrestling. It could kill someone if you did it wrong enough."

"Well I'm not in the ring and I haven't killed anyone yet."

"And I'm not bailing you out when you get put in jail for assault and battery one of these days."

Techno scoffs, "Dad! Come on! You did it for Wil!"

Wil rolls his eyes, finally looking up from his plate, "Yeah, because I was in jail for a parking ticket."

Techno turns to him, glaring, "It was twenty three parking tickets and a ditched court hearing."

"That's literally the same thing as only having one."

"It _literally_ isn't."

"Oh my _God_ , you _always_ do this-"

" _I_ always do this? Oh that is _such_ -"

The two then start to talk (yell?) over each other, a mix of swear words, threats, and oddly specific similes being thrown around the dining room for Tommy and Phil to witness. Tommy watches the back and forth (can it even be called that if there's no way to differentiate who says what besides their voices?) while Phil just cooks in silence, not even sparing a glance when Techno throws the salt shaker at Wilbur's head. Tommy does his best to ignore them after that, but then Wilbur knocks him off his chair and makes him spill his breakfast all over his shirt and whatever manners he had go flying out the window.

They end up on the living room floor, Techno pinning down Wilbur while Tommy punches Wilbur in the gut as best as he can with him underneath Techno and Wilbur kicks at Tommy from underneath him. There's a lot of screaming, Tommy thinks he hears a prayer somewhere in there, but Phil doesn't stop it. He does keep an eye out though, giving a quick 'watch the edge of the table, Tommy' or a 'Wil can't breathe when you put him in choke holds like that, Tech', he makes sure they don't get seriously hurt.

Wilbur finally taps out, Tommy and Techno high-fiving at the shared victory, and he rests a hand over his chest, "Jesus, Tommy. I didn't think you'd be that eager to kick my ass. Especially on day one."

Tommy kicks at him again, just barely missing, "This is one of my only shirts, dickhead. Watch where you're swinging your arms next time and I won't have to jump you."

The other three go silent, and Tommy has never liked when things go silent. He doesn't know what they're thinking when they're silent, can't gauge the way they're feeling if he can't hear their tone, doesn't know what to say when he's already finished speaking. He hates when it's silent.

Phil's chair scrapes against the tile, grabbing Tommy's attention, and he walks into the living room. When he stands just in front of Tommy he drops down so that he's on his toes in a sort of sitting position. "Tommy," he says, "do you have enough clothes."

If there's one thing Tommy hates more than silence, it's silence where everyone is staring at him. Two things he hates right in row! Fantastic! He rubs the back of his neck, "I mean, I have seven pairs of everything I'd need depending on the weather."

"Tommy, can you tell me in exact numbers how many clothes you have? Not counting socks or underwear?"

Tommy doesn't say anything, just stares back at Phil as he tries to think of what could go wrong if he answers this truthfully. He doesn't want them to feel pity for him, he hates when people feel pity for him (there's a very long list of things he hates, he's starting to realize), but it would be an easy enough lie to figure out. One glance in his dresser drawers would out him.

"Seven short sleeves, seven long sleeves, seven pairs of shorts, and seven pairs of jeans. And a jacket. Twenty-nine in total, thirty-eight counting underwear and socks if we count pairs of socks as one piece of clothing. It used to be forty but I lost some of my socks during a laundry run about a year back."

Phil sighs, hanging his head and shaking it ever so slightly. Tommy is worried he messed up, that they're going to send him back because he doesn't have enough clothes, not that he cares if they send him back, of course, but instead Phil laughs, "We really should take you school shopping."

Techno and Wilbur look absolutely mortified at the mere mention of such a thing, "Dear God, dad, are you _trying_ to traumatize him? It hasn't even been a day." Wilbur says, resting the back of his hand over his forehead as if he were about to faint.

"And my analysis was too much. Shopping with Philza Minecraft on day two?" Techno whistles to himself, "Good luck, Charlie."

"I am not _that_ bad to shop with!" Phil defends, glaring at his sons who both give him an ' _are you sure about that?_ ' look. Tommy can't tell if he's bad to shop with because he's one of those people that takes forever to find stuff like he'd seen on T.V, or if he forces you to try on everything like he had also seen on T.V.

If it wasn't painfully obvious Tommy's never been shopping in his life.

Phil stands running a hand down his face, "Fine then, if you both hate shopping with me so much, you can take him shopping."

Techno and Wilbur both groan, Techno seeming much more resilient to the idea than Wilbur does. Tommy feels... kind of offended at that. Is he _that_ bad? Should he not have joined in on fighting Wilbur? Was that going too far? Was calling Wilbur a dickhead too far? Do they think he's annoying? Too weird? Do they want to send him back? Who cares if they want to send him back? Their loss.

"But shopping is so _boring_ !" Techno says and Wil makes a sound of agreement. Ah. That explains it. They just dislike shopping in general. Tommy wonders if it's _because_ of Phil or if they've always been like that. Maybe it's an odd mix of both. Tommy can't really say anything for or against it, again, never been shopping in his life.

"It's either that, or you let me take him shopping."

"No!" They said in unison, shooting up from the ground and racing each other up the stairs to get changed out of their pajamas. Phil chuckles as he watches them, and Tommy follows them at a much slower pace to change out his shirt. He heard a loud thud, followed by a ' _Wil, I swear to God!_ ', and then two doors slamming shut before he even got halfway up the stairs. He wonders if they're always like this, if they ever have a quiet moment where they just talk peacefully to one another or if they're constantly butting heads.

By the time he changes out his shirt and puts on a pair of socks, which takes a minute at most, Techno and Wilbur are already waiting for him in front of the door fully dressed and ready to go. He slips on his shoes, tattered and beaten from years of use, and follows Wilbur and Techno out the front door with a reminder from Phil to not get another parking ticket that Wilbur waves off.

They walk down the driveway to a faded blue two-thousand Hyundai Elantra parked on the curbside, it makes a loud distorted ' _beep_ ' noise when Wilbur unlocks it, and Techno takes at least four tries of intense force to try and open the passenger side door.

"Wilbur, I am begging you to get a new car. This thing is practically unusable at this point." He says as Tommy puts on his seat belt. The leather of the seats is chipping, something Tommy didn't even realize could happen, and there's some odd stains on the carpet and ceiling of the car. There's also the words ' _Technoblade Never Dies_ ' written and crossed out on the ceiling no more than twelve times. The car has very obviously been in use for years.

"Does the car still run?" Wilbur asks, turning the key in the ignition and letting the car start up. The sound is absolutely terrible.

"I mean... yeah, but-"

"Then shut the fuck up." Wilbur says as he begins the drive, Techno looks like he would have hit him if he weren't driving, but Tommy is incredibly grateful he held back. Full offense, he doesn't want to die in a crash inside some car that looks like it could very well have been a murder scene at some point.

At a stoplight, Wilbur pulls out his phone and Techno makes a reach for it. Wilbur slaps the others hand away, glaring, "Fuck off, Tommy gets to pick the music cause he's new."

He hands Tommy the phone, opened to Spotify already, before turning back and taking the left turn he needed to once the light turns green. Tommy just sort of stares at it for a moment, he's never really used Spotify that much. The phone he has barely has enough storage for twitter and YouTube, and he spends most of his time on YouTube watching gaming videos. He doesn't really... have a music taste. Sure there's the stuff on the radio, but he doesn't really know the names of them and he's never bothered to look for them.

He goes into one of the playlists that shows up in the recently played category titled ' _Wil's Jams For Vibing_ '. He presses the back button and spots another playlist, this one titled ' _Techno's Songs To Kill People To'_ . Tommy is only eighty percent sure that it's a joke, and on the off twenty percent that it isn't, he makes a point not to check the songs in there. The third playlist he opens is just titled ' _Phil_ ', and it's mainly filled with old songs that Tommy has never heard of, even from the older ladies at the orphanage.

He goes back to Wilbur's playlist, and clicks on a random song from a band he's never heard of, though he hasn't heard of a lot of bands. The opening notes come through the speakers, and Wilbur absolutely lights up. He turns to Tommy to compliment his music taste, only for Techno to yell at him to keep his eyes on the road, and Tommy watches as Wilbur barely misses running into someone's mailbox as they drive through the suburbs. Apparently it's a short cut.

Once Wilbur's eyes are back on the road, he keeps talking, "I didn't think you would like AJJ, Tommy! I don't know a lot of people that listen to their music."

Tommy shrugs, not saying anything. He _doesn't_ listen to this band, he's not going to try and lie about it and get stuck into having to pretend he actually does listens to them.

It doesn't take long for Wilbur to realize that it's literally just his own playlist, glancing at Tommy in the rear view mirror with a questioning look that Tommy just shrugs at again. He has to admit that Wilbur has a good taste in music, though. The songs have a nice rhythm, and they aren't too loud for Tommy. He should listen to music more often, it's... nice.

Wilbur takes way too fucking long to find a parking spot once they get to the mall, in Tommy's humble opinion. He says something about needing shade so the car isn't hot when they get back, but it needs to be close to the front entrance so it doesn't take ages to get back to the car with all the bags, and yada yada blah blah blah. Techno keeps pointing out spots and Wilbur keeps telling him they're bad, and Techno looks five seconds away from just jumping out of the car entirely when Wilbur finally, _finally_ , finds a parking spot that meets his standards. He has the worst parking job Tommy has ever seen (which isn't hard considering it's one of the _only_ parking jobs he's ever seen) and it suddenly makes sense how he's gotten so many parking tickets.

"Right, we're gonna head up to the second floor." Wilbur says once they enter the air-conditioned building. There's plenty of people walking around, and it's much louder than anywhere Tommy has ever been before. It's sort of overwhelming. There's some pop song playing over the intercoms that Tommy can vaguely make two or three words out of every couple of seconds when the noise dies down, children screaming somewhere that grates on his ears coupled with the squeaking of shoes on tile. It feels like a bigger orphanage, but even more so when he sees a kid sprinting away from their mother who's screaming at them to slow down. Yup. Just a bigger orphanage. If people were to live in malls. Someone probably does. Tommy doesn't know.

Techno groans, "Seriously? We're taking him to fucking _Hot Topic_? Just so you can see Schlatt?"

"Schlatt lost at the national championships, you know that I need to take every chance possible to rub that in his face."

"You won on a technicality. Two years ago." They walk onto the escalator, Wilbur turning his head around to face his younger brother.

"I still won, and winning is timeless!"

Techno rolls his eyes, and Tommy stays silent. Is this really what having siblings is like? Constantly arguing? Do they just secretly hate each other? Are they just too nice to tell Phil that they don't want to be brothers? No, that can't be it, because they're even worse in front of Phil.

He thinks about Kate and Wilson. How they were constantly at each other's throats, how they would take any chance they could to be an ass to the other, how they would call each other names, and pull on each other's hair, and steal each other's clothes. But they also made sure to never go too far. They made sure to stop if the other seemed genuinely upset, or if they were crying. How when one was in a bad mood, the other could just... tell and begin to comfort them.

He looks to Wilbur and Techno a couple feet in front of each other, still bickering, and he sees Kate and Wilson in them. Sees that there really is an underlying genuine care for the person they're antagonizing. There's real affection there. Something that Tommy assumed people grew out of when they were older was the physical way of interacting with their siblings, but he guesses he was wrong. Maybe he should stop making assumptions about things he's never experienced.

The walk into a store with the words ' _HOT TOPIC_ ' above it in large gray letters, the interior is black and the walls are absolutely covered in merchandise from shows that Tommy has never heard of before. He doubts he'll find anything he likes in here, but if Wilbur wanted to stop in here to torment some poor soul on the job, who is he to stop him? Wilbur walks straight up to a counter in the middle of the store with the register while Techno walks over to a shelf covered in cups and things to hand on key chains or backpacks.

"Hey, fucker!" Wilbur says once someone walks out of the backroom. They groan, hanging their head back and looking up to the ceiling.

"Wilbur, I'm fucking working." They say, shuffling to the cash register. Tommy finally gets a good look at them, or him if the pronoun pin is to be believed. He's got a slim face, it looks like he just shaved, and his hair is mostly hidden under a New York Yankees hat. He's wearing a plain black t-shirt with a lanyard covered in different pins for different things. The two biggest ones that Tommy even bothers to glance at are, again, the pronoun pin and the one that just says ' _straight ally_ '.

Wilbur waves him off, he tends to do that to people a lot, "Yeah yeah, whatever. Hey, do you happen to know the moral equivalent to child abandonment."

Schlatt narrows his eyes and Tommy has to assume it has something to do with the national championship, "Get the fuck out."

"Whoa calm down, Jamal. Don't pull out the nine." Wilbur laughs at his own joke while Schlatt looks ready to forcefully push Wilbur out of the store himself. He doesn't do quite that, but he does smack Wilbur so hard on the back of the head that some people walking past stop to see what the sound was. "Ow! Fuck!"

"Say you're sorry, or I'll pin your head to the ground next time with my foot."

"Sorry, sorry, goddamn!" Wilbur says, rubbing the back of his head. He flips off Schlatt who makes a move to grab his hand, but he takes his hand back before Schlatt can get a hold of it.

"Great. Now get the fuck out."

Wilbur grimaces, feigning disappointment, "As much as I would love to leave your ugly ass," Wilbur ducks under another slap, "no can do, chief. We're actually going to try and look for something."

Schlatt raises a brow, "Seriously? You never shop here. I mean, Techno does, but all you do is come in right before I get off to fucking terrorize me." 

Wilbur rolls his eyes, falling onto the counter holding the cash register, "It's not for us, idiot, it's for Tommy."

Schlatt finally looks up, glossing over Techno and falling instead onto Tommy for the first time since the three came in together. "The fuck? Did you guys kidnap a fucking child?"

Wilbur snorts, "No. Dadza fostered again."

Schlatt looks absolutely mortified at the implications of that. "Again? _Again_? You mean I very well could have to deal with another one of you fucks for the rest of eternity?"

Techno puts down the key chain attachment he was fidgeting with to instead inspect some random cup, "You could always just move out." he says, and Schlatt lets out an offended noise.

"Fuck off, you can't get rid of me that easily."

Techno mutters something that sounds like 'then stop complaining, fucking weirdo', but Schlatt either doesn't hear him or doesn't bother to respond. Instead, he looks back at Tommy, looking him up and down with a blank stare. Christ, does everyone he's going to be around for who knows how long do this? Schlatt seems more like he's judging Tommy where Techno had looked more like he was trying to gauge the others feelings, though.

"I don't think this kid would want to shop here, Wil." He finally says, still not looking away from Tommy. He's not _wrong_ , but Tommy can't help but wonder how he could tell just from looking at him for all of five seconds. Although, he supposes that he just doesn't give off the energy of someone who would shop here. Then again, Schlatt doesn't look like someone who would _work_ here.

Wilbur raises his head from where it's basically smashed into the counter and turns to look at Tommy, looking him up and down. "You wanna shop here, Tommy?"

Tommy looks between the two of them. Wilbur seems more like he wants a genuine answer while Schlatt looks extremely bored. He turns to Techno, still messing with the dangly things on some of the shelves. Tommy has to admit that while the clothing isn't really catching his attention, he quite likes the things that Techno is messing with. He turns back to Wilbur and shrugs, "I 'unno."

Wilbur sighs, but he still smiles and motions to where Techno is. Tommy lights up, practically running to join Techno, and begins to fiddle with the attachments himself. They're all pretty basic, some having to do with this popular T.V show or that one, but he likes the designs. His favorite ones are the ones that move, like the one that's sort of like a ball but not quite. He likes the way it moves in his hand.

Techno looks at the one he's holding, and holds it out for Tommy to take. It's another ball one, but this one has dull spikes all around it. Tommy looks up at Techno with confusion, and Techno makes a motion for Tommy to roll the ball between his hands. He's not entirely sure _why_ Techno tells him to do it, but he does and he immediately falls in love with the sensation.

It's a sort of dull pressure on his hands, and it scratches an inch that Tommy hadn't even realized he had. He can't exactly describe it, it just feels... right. He stares at his hands, watching the ball move around. He's absolutely enamored with it.

He's too focused on the ball to notice Techno look at Wilbur over his head, raising a brow. Wilbur understands immediately, opening his mouth and turning to Schlatt to say something.

"Already on it, dude." he says ringing up the discount that Wilbur had managed to convince Schlatt to convince his manager, Eret, to give Wil whenever they buy some sort of key chain for Techno, and Wilbur smiles the first genuine smile that he's given Schlatt since they showed.

"Thanks, Schlatt. Seriously."

Schlatt stumbles over his words for a few seconds, not really knowing how to react to Wilbur showing him any sort of positive attention, before finally just looking away and saying, "Whatever."

They leave Schlatt with Tommy still running the ball between his hands and Wilbur promising to kick his ass at the next national championship, but Schlatt doesn't seem to be worried about that. Techno and Wilbur drag him to every store that they usually shop at and Tommy doesn't really bother to say he finds this piece of clothing or that particularly nice. They're about to just grab lunch (Dinner? Tommy assumes it's at _least_ five already. That's much too late for lunch, but much too early for dinner... drunch? Drunch.), and head home when a shirt catches Tommy's eye through the large opening of one of the shops and he stops walking.

There's no one else inside besides a bored looking person (Tommy doesn't want to assume, Hannah from two years ago taught him not to) with dyed hair scrolling through their phone at the counter, and an indie song Tommy's never heard before is playing on the speakers inside. The interior is a light blue, and it's organized in a way that makes Tommy's brain feel nice. A lot of the shirts aren't too bright, unlike most of the stores that Wilbur had brought him to, but they aren't incredibly dark either. They're mostly white with some color splashed onto them here and there (the one that caught Tommy's eye had been a red and white baseball tee). The sign above the shop just reads ' _Niki's_ ' in a nice, simple font.

Tommy decides that this is his favorite store in the world.

"Tommy," Techno calls out, he and Wilbur a good few feet ahead of him, "you good?"

Tommy just nods, "Yeah, I just... think I found something." He walks into the store, the person at the counter looking up incredibly startled, and grabs the baseball tee he'd liked. He's about to walk up to the cash register and ask if there's a changing room somewhere but falters when they still seem like they're trying to process that another living soul just walked into the story.

Wilbur and Techno join him not long after, and the person snaps out of their daze, "Uh, hello." they say in a soft voice, looking past Tommy to the boys behind him and lighting up. "Wil, Techno! I didn't know you guys would be here today!"

Tommy turns to Wilbur and Techno, "Do you two know everyone in this fucking mall?" They just shrug, and Tommy shakes his head. The two of them had known practically everyone in all the stores by first name, knowing one of the security named Sapnap (who Tommy says is a bitch with wrong opinions on _everything_ ). One guy, Karl, had even left the customer he had been helping to someone else just to come say hi.

"Sorry for just showing up unannounced Niki, we weren’t actually planning to be here today. Had to save Tommy from going shopping with my dad." Niki cringes when Wilbur mentions that. Not wanting to go shopping with Phil is apparently a universal sentiment.

Techno laughs at the face she makes, "Do you have the changing room key?"

“You know it.” Niki says with a smile, throwing the key to Tommy who just barley manages to catch it. He moves into the changing room to put on the shirt while the three start a conversation amongst themselves. Something about someone named Fundy.

The shirt fits him well, and he thinks he looks good in it when he checks in the mirror, so he thinks he’s set. Maybe buy a couple more of these, possibly a few more in a different color, and he’s totally set!

When he gets his original shirt back on, just a plain black one, Niki and Wilbur and in the middle of yelling at Techno who is holding one of the shirt racks above his head. The yelling is impossible to make out, but Techno looks more amused than intimidated.

Techno spots Tommy standing awkwardly outside the changing room, “Hey, did the shirt fit?” He asks, Wilbur and Niki turning to look at him as well.

Tommy just holds up the shirt and nods awkwardly before walking to the same shelf and grabbing a couple more shirts, as well as some sleep pants.

Once they’ve finished paying and are about to leave to actually get lunch, Niki says, “Make sure to actually show up to practice on time, tomorrow or I’m starting without you.”

Wilbur shakes his head, “Betrayed by my own Vice President.”

Niki rolls her eyes, “If you were a good President I wouldn’t _have_ to betray you.”

Wilbur gasps, having to be dragged out of the store by Techno while he goes off on some dramatic speech on the importance of loyalty during war, or something.

”Who was Niki?” Tommy asks once Wilbur’s stopped his soliloquy.

”Hm? Oh, she’s the Vice President of the debate team. Has been for the past two years.” Tommy nods, not bothering to ask any further questions in their walk to the food court.

The food court isn’t as full as Tommy expected it to be, but according to Techno it’s already six. Jesus, they really did lose track of time, didn’t they?

”Lets get Cinnabon.” Wilbur says, and Techno sighs.

”Wil, we’re here to get dinner. We can’t get Cinnabon.”

”But Cinnabon!” Wilbur whines, making a pouty face. Techno doesn’t budge, obviously, and Tommy watches as Wilbur tries to make a case for them to get Cinnabon anyways.

Tommy has no goddamn clue what a Cinnabon is. “What the hell is Cinnabon?”

Wilbur and Techno stop mid-argument and turn to him. Wilbur looks genuinely offended a the question, and even Techno has a hint of shock and judgement on his face.

”Tech.” Wilbur says, turning back to him, “Come on, we _have_ to get it now.”

Techno groans, running a hand down his face as he turns it over in his head. Tommy doesn’t know what the big deal is, it’s literally just a restaurant, but he’s apparently committed a deadly sin by having never tasted it before. Tommy thinks they keep forgetting he’d lived in an orphanage until literally yesterday afternoon.

”Fine! We can get Cinnabon.” Wilbur was already sprinting towards the restaurant before Techno finished his sentence. There’s no line, so Wilbur just runs straight to the cashier and starts saying his order a mile a minute. The cashier, someone wearing a black (or is it dark blue?) beanie, looks a little frightened at first, before they smile and shake their head.

Techno and Tommy walk at a much slower pace, walking into the conversation just as the cashier says, “Wil, I assure you that four people won’t be able to eat four dozen cinnamon rolls in one week.”

Techno is at the counter in a second as soon as he hears that.

”We’re only getting four!” He yells, and the cashier laughs. “Fuck, Wil, you can’t keep harassing all your friends at their jobs. Sorry, Quackity.” Geez, these two really do know everyone in this mall.

The cashier, Quackity, just shrugs, “It’s chill, man. I’m used to Wil pulling this shit. He bought nearly two-hundred cinnamon rolls last year.”

“I am _begging_ you to learn how to save money.” Techno says, resting his forehead against the counter.

Tommy laughs, gaining Quackity’s attention. He gives Tommy a quick once over, and beams. “Hey, man. What’d you want to order?”

Tommy startles, looking between the three of them with his mouth hanging open because he doesn’t know what to say.

Wilbur, thankfully, saves him from having to explain, “He’s with us, Alex.”

Quackity (Alex?) nods in understanding, “Right, right. New adoptee?”

”Foster.” Wilbur and Techno say in unison, and Quackity-Alex nods again as they pack some fresh looking cinnamon rolls in a box.

They smell absolutely amazing. Tommy can understand why Wilbur was so adamant to come here, the smell alone is making him feel hungry. They look incredible, the frosting stuff on top of the rolls really adding onto the appeal.

Quackity-Alex holds a hand out to Tommy, “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex, but people call me Quackity. He him.”

Tommy looks to Wilbur for an explanation and Wilbur leans in to whisper, “Pronouns. Like, what to use when you refer to someone. Niki uses she and her, Techno, Phil, and I use he and him. That kinda thing.”

Tommy eyes widen once it clicks and he takes Alex’s hand, “Tommy, also he him.”

Alex smiles, turning back to Wilbur, “So, who’s paying for it?”

Techno and Wilbur immediately go into ark wrestling positions, and Alex gets eye level with the counter to really be able to tell who wins.

”Three... two... one... go!”

Wilbur starts to try and push Techno’s hand to the counter while the other looks straight forward with an unamused expression. Wilbur adds a second hand, pulling as hard as possible. He even starts to walk in the direction to pull Techno’s arm down, but the other doesn’t budge. Techno touches Wilbur’s hand to the counter with what looks like absolutely no effort, and Alex and Tommy are practically crying laughing.

Wilbur shakes out his hand, brow furrowed, before putting his elbow back to the counter with a determined expression, “Best five out of ten!”

The next four rounds go exactly the same way. Tommy has to give Wilbur credit where credit is due, though. The guy is anything but a quitter.

”Dude,” Techno says as Wilbur insists that they go for best thirty-two out of sixty-four, “just fucking pay for the cinnamon rolls.”

Wilbur groans, complaining through the entire paying process, and the three leave Alex with a quick goodbye before getting some actual dinner (it’s from another place he’s never heard of, Panda Express. Tommy just gets what Techno does because he trusts his judgement.) and making their way back to the car.

The parking spot they chose having the ‘perfect shade’ doesn’t even matter at the end of it all, because the sun is already almost completely set by the time they leave the mall. Tommy is slightly peeved that they (Wilbur) took so long to find a parking spot because of this, but he’s too tired to really care. That’s probably the most walking he’s ever done in one day. Sure he’s ran around and played and shit, but walking around a large building for nearly ten hours? Completely different.

Wilbur let’s Tommy pick the music again, and just before he goes to click on Wilbur’s playlist again, he notices there’s a new one.

It’s titled ‘ _Tommy’s Mall Jams_ ’, and the picture for it is a candid shot of Tommy talking to Sapnap. Tommy doesn’t even know how Wilbur took the photo without him noticing, he assumes that he was too busy arguing with Sapnap over what the best type of weather is to have noticed.

He can’t _not_ click on it.

There’s only four songs on it so far, which doesn’t surprise Tommy considering they weren’t in the mall that long, so he presses on the one called _Line of Sight_ by someone called ODESZA.

Tommy quickly recognizes it as the EDM song that had been playing in _Spencer’s_ when the three of them had stopped there. Tommy had been nodding his head along to the beat, not even realizing that Wilbur had been paying attention. The song isn’t liked yet, so Wilbur had obviously looked it up just to add it to the playlist. Wilbur went looking for the song that Tommy hadn’t even verbally expressed liking, just to add it to a Spotify playlist that Tommy hadn’t even asked him to make. The song sounds even better once he realizes the implications of that, and Tommy can’t really explain why.

Wilbur looks at him through the rear view mirror, questioning, and this time Tommy smiles.

Wilbur smiles back.

They park on the curb just as the final notes of Hayloft stop, and Wilbur shuts off the car. Tommy hands Wilbur his phone as they all make their way back into the house.

”We’re home!” Techno calls out, sliding his shoes off. Phil is sat in the living room, playing COD four. Tommy almost laughs at the role reversal of yesterday.

Phil doesn’t even turn to greet them, just saying “Welcome home” as he focuses on shooting some enemies in game.

Wilbur sighs, “We got Panda and Cinnabon. Did you know Tommy’s never had it before?

Phil pauses the game in an instant, “Well shit, why didn’t you lead with that? Come on now, let’s go to the dining room. We can’t deprive ourselves of sustenance.” Tommy laughs as he herds them into the dining room, taking the bag of Chinese food from Wilbur.

Dinner is very similar to what it was last night, except now Tommy joins in on a few of the jabs that Wilbur and Techno throw around. He even gets a few directed at him. It’s less awkward, a little bit less like Tommy has to say the exact right thing every time he speaks and more like just hanging out with friends. The Chinese food isn’t too bad, either, even if Phil laughs at the fact that Tommy and Techno’s orders are identical.

Once they’ve finished the Chinese food, all three Watson’s stare at him. “What?” He asks, and Wilbur just silently slides the Cinnabon box in his direction.

Tommy takes it as his cue to try one.

He opens the box and picks up one of the rolls. They’re still warm, somehow, and it smells just as good as it had in the store. The frosting stuff on the top isn’t as liquid as it was when they bought the rolls, but that just means it’s less of a mess on Tommy’s hands. He inspects it, unsure of what direction to take a bite in. He looks back to the three Watson’s, still staring at him, and just goes for it.

It is quite possibly the best thing he has ever, and will ever, eat.

Wilbur nods, saying that if he hadn’t liked it they would have had no choice but to kill him. Techno and Phil agree, and none of the three ever specify if it was a joke or not. He decides he doesn’t really want to know.

Once the dinner dishes are done, Wilbur lost the Rock Paper Scissors this time, the door bell rings about twelve times a second. Tommy looks to Phil in confusion, because who shows up at someone’s house at nearly nine o’clock at night, but Phil just sighs as he completely obliterates the enemy team.

”Can you get that, Tommy? I’d ask Technoblade, but he’s in the shower.” Tommy nods, and gets off the couch and opening the front door without hesitation. Phil doesn’t seem concerned, why should he?

Stood on the doorstep is a short brunette wearing a collared green polo shirt. They obviously didn’t expect Tommy to be the one that answered, because when they go to speak they stop short in confusion, even going as far as to check the address more than once.

”Hello?” Tommy finally asks, and the brunette startles.

”Sorry! Sorry!” They rush out, “Just... this is Phil’s house, right?”

Tommy nods, and that leaves the brunette even more confused, they turn to their right, facing the large oak tree in the front yard, “Hey, do you know if Phil has family coming to visit this weekend?”

Tommy almost assumes the kids crazy before he follows his line of sight and notices a tall, as in at least five-eleven tall, person in the tree. They’re blond, wearing a pair of sunglasses (for some reason) and their body language looks incredibly uncomfortable.

”No!” The tall person yells back, and the brunette turns back to Tommy.

”Who are you?” They ask.

Tommy is taken aback by the question, because this kid was the one who showed up at Tommy’s place of residence at nearly nine o’clock at night, but answers anyways, “I’m Tommy. He and him. Phil’s fostering me. Who are you?”

”I’m Tubbo, and that freak of nature stuck in your tree is Ranboo. We also use he and him pronouns.” Tommy almost thinks that their names are odd, but he literally knows someone named Technoblade so he can’t really judge. “Now that we know each other, do you guys have a ladder?”

Tommy stares at him for a few seconds. Do they have a ladder? He hadn’t bothered to ask, not the he’d really had much use for it. “I... don’t know?”

Tubbo turns back to the tree, “He says he doesn’t know!”

”How does he not know?!”

Tubbo turns back to him, “He wants to know how you don’t know.”

”No, yeah, I _definitely_ heard him.” He turns to look at Phil, still engrossed in the game, when Wilbur comes up behind him.

”Hey, Tubbo! What’d you need?”

Tubbo points his thumb in the direction of the tree, “Ranboo’s stuck in your tree and we need a ladder to get him back.”

Wilbur ducks out the doorway, waving to Ranboo who waved back, “The ladders on the side of the house. Just be sure to put it back once you’re done, alright?”

Tubbo beams, “Got it! Thanks, Wil!” He says before running off.

”No problem!” Wilbur calls after him, closing the door for Tommy who had backed away. “Sorry about them, they get into all sorts of trouble around the block. You three are actually in the same grade, so you might be seeing a lot of them.”

Tommy just nods wordlessly when Techno calls from upstairs, “Tommy! Bathrooms free!”

”Got it!” He calls back, grabbing his bags of clothes and running up the stairs into the bathroom.

It isn’t until he’s out of the shower and in his sleep clothes, actual sleep clothes, not just the cargo pants and shirt he’d already been wearing all day that he ends up wearing to bed because he doesn’t have any thing else, that Tommy realizes just how tired he actually is. He wants to just go straight to bed, but he feels like that would be a little bit rude to go to bed without saying Goodnight, so he drags himself down the stairs and into the living room where Phil, Wilbur, who looks fresh out of his own shower, and Techno are watching some shitty movie about eagles and making fun of it relentlessly.

Tommy desperately wants to join.

”Hey, buds,” Phil says when he notices Tommy standing there in his sweats and a tee shirt that’s way too big, “you heading to bed?”

Tommy goes to say yes, because he was, but then Techno says something about how shitty the eagle CGI is through literal tears, and he stops himself. Instead, he ends up saying, “No, I came down to see what you guys are doing.”

”We’re watching this movie called Birdemic.” Wilbur says, after Techno tries and fails to say the same through laughter. “It’s literally so shitty. You should have seen the trailer, it nearly made me piss myself.”

Tommy turns to the screen and, yeah, he can understand why. It looks like actual ass. “Can I join?”

Phil motions to Tommy to come over and Wilbur scoots over for there to be a little more room on the couch. He’s sat right between Wilbur and Phil, Techno on the floor right in front of the couch. Wilbur passes him a bowl of popcorn, and they all turn back to the movie.

Wilbur makes a joke about how the audio sounds computer generated on a computer made out of a cardboard box someone pissed on, and Tommy literally ends up choking on the popcorn he had been eating. They have to pause the movie just to make sure he doesn’t die.

The movie ends, and Wilbur puts on a movie called ‘ _The VelociPastor_ ’, and the title alone nearly has Tommy crying with laughter.

He isn’t quite sure when during the movie he falls asleep, only that it’s half past midnight when he does so, but he wakes at two in the morning with a dry mouth in his bedroom. He can still hear the T.V on downstairs, which means that someone carried him upstairs after he fell asleep only to go back down to continue the movie.

He tiptoes downstairs, not wanting to disturb anyone, and gets himself a glass of water in the darkness. Once his mouth doesn’t feel like he just ate a pound of sand, he goes to make his way upstairs before spotting all three Watson’s passed out on the couch together.

Phil has Wilbur sat on his lap, face buried into his neck while his legs are one on the couch the other off. Techno has his body curled into a ball almost, head resting on Wilbur’s lap. It doesn’t look comfortable, it looks the exact opposite and Tommy can almost feel the aches they’re going to be feeling tomorrow, but it looks... comforting. It looks like something that Tommy would enjoy.

He only went into the living room to turn off the T.V, he’s going to swear by that for the rest of his life, but he had just been _so tired_ and there was just _so many stairs_. It couldn’t have hurt to just... maneuver himself in-between Techno and Wilbur, could it?

He lifts Techno as delicately as he can without waking him, pushing Wilbur’s legs out of the way, and sets himself on the couch. He ends up with Techno’s head leaning on his shoulder and his legs under Wilbur’s, Phil’s arm ends up around him, and his head on his other shoulder, while he’s trying to get Wilbur’s legs over his own, but he chalks that up to Phil just moving around in his sleep because it would be absolutely mortifying that someone caught him sneaking into their sleep pile if it weren’t.

He falls asleep at a quarter to three, if the cable box’s time is to be believed, with one thing on his mind.

_Is this what people with families do?_

No one tells him in the morning, but they all woke up as soon as he turned off the T.V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cameos and name drops for a bunch of characters! they’ll get more in depth fic time soon, lads :)
> 
>  _Line of Sight_ by ODESZA is actually the song used in [Late-August’s _‘Resolve’_ animatic](https://youtu.be/Xi-cmbVzRDE), and I’ve been listening to it all day!
> 
> check out my [spotify playlists](https://open.spotify.com/user/9yzyoobt1txrdarxwdt2gt6ex) cowards
> 
> have [this post](https://m1keythemage.tumblr.com/post/643509151838912512/m1keythemage-neurodivergent-version-as-requested) from my tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> *hands u this* enjoy


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